


making the yuletide gay

by TheTeaIsAddictive



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Scotland, Snowed In, Sort Of, This is so soft, and there is a fairly steamy makeup scene, but no actual sex sooo, i swear to god i don't know where the porn came from, well is it porn?? nobody has sex but it is implied that sex will follow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTeaIsAddictive/pseuds/TheTeaIsAddictive
Summary: Belle is stuck in town for NYE, and Eve still hasn't told her about the rather inconvenient crush she has.





	making the yuletide gay

It’s 21:57 on Hogmanay, and Belle is still trying to get home. 

“Why exactly did you think that waiting until _New Year’s Eve_ to take the train home would have been a good idea, again?” Eve asks, her cheeks flushed pink and her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat as they look at the last train leaving for Belle’s home town, still panting for breath.

“It was a little last-minute, okay! Sue me!” Belle snaps. 

“You mean you forgot to book the tickets and couldn’t think of a good excuse to _not_ go home,” Eve corrects, pulling her hat off her head in an attempt to cool down. “Jesus Christ, Belle, if you didn’t want to go home I’m sure your dad would have understood. People stay for New Year’s with their friends all the time -- if you’d just told him that, it would have saved us a fucking sprint to the station like it’s the bloody Olympics.”

Belle glares at her, spits, “Piss off, Eve,” and trudges back out of the station to wait for the next subway back to the flat that they share.

* * *

It’s 22:13, and Eve is trying her best not to eavesdrop on Belle as she talks to her dad on the phone in the adjoining room. 

“Yes, yes, Dad, I’m _sorry_ but there’s nothing I can do!”

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Eve briefly considers just restarting the movie again even though she’d promised to keep it on pause. 

“No, Dad, I missed the last direct train. None of the others get me home in time, and the buses _definitely_ won’t.”

Another pause as Belle’s dad responds. Eve fiddles with the bobbles on her Christmas jumper that she’s still wearing even though it’s New Year’s Eve, multi-coloured Christmas lights with a felted yellow star not he top of the tree. Belle’s one, she knows, is a delicate light brown with robin redbreasts wearing party hats embroidered onto it, and it brings out her hair and eyes perfectly. Eve just accepts the thought, already knowing that attempting to banish it will be futile. She had thought for certain that the Christmas season, with all its mistletoe, would have provided at least some excuse for her to get over this inconvenient crush, but _no._

Belle’s speaking Gaelic now, her voice that little bit higher and softer than it is when she speaks English, and Eve lets the language flow over her ears. Her Lewis accent isn’t very strong at all most of the time, but it comes back again full force when she talks to her dad on the phone, or comes back to Glasgow after summer or winter holidays at home. Eve loves the little lilts and falls, the gentle melodic quality as Belle’s tone sing-songs through her sentences. Most of the time she just sounds generically Scottish, even to non-English ears, so Eve treasures the little moments where her original accent shines through. Eve herself is Glasgow born and bred, although an English father did put a certain twang over her accent; other English people are always surprised that she doesn’t sound like a character from Taggart. 

“Yes, I promise I’ll be up for your birthday,” Belle laughs. That means she’s speaking to her stepbrother Chip, most likely. “Aye. Tìoraidh, Chip.”

A few seconds later, Belle walks back in the door and plants herself down beside Eve. If her eyes look redder than usual, Eve has the good grace to say nothing about it. And if, after the movie has been turned back on, Eve’s hand finds Belle’s under the blankets, Belle acknowledges it with only a squeeze of her fingers.

* * *

It’s 23:57, and the movie’s credits are running. 

Eve has somehow managed to manoeuvre them so that her legs are across Belle’s lap, while Belle’s upper body is draped over Eve’s torso. She pauses the movie, but otherwise doesn’t move Belle from her position. 

From this angle she can’t tell whether or not Belle has fallen asleep, but her deep and regular breathing suggests that she has. 

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Belle murmurs, her voice vibrating across Eve’s skin and a welcome change in volume from the film. 

Not asleep, then.

“Really?” Eve says. She lifts a hand and runs it through Belle’s hair. Belle hums in pleasure as she does, and the sound goes straight through Eve. 

Belle chuckles. “It’s picked up quite suddenly. Can’t imagine why.”

Eve tries to force herself to calm down, but God knows that’s never worked so why would it start to now?

Still facing the television screen, Belle moves her hand so that her fingertips run over the small expanse of skin between Eve’s jumper, which has ridden up a fair bit as she changed her position, and the waistband of her jeans. Eve shivers, only in part because Belle’s fingers are cold. Belle seems perfectly content to move her fingers back and forth over the small of Eve's back, neither pulling her hand down below her jeans or up to the rest of her back. As she presses in slightly the very tips of her always-short nails scrape against Eve's skin, and she shudders. 

"There it goes," Belle murmurs. With her other hand, which curved around her back to settle on Eve's shoulder blade at some point, she drums out the rhythm of Eve's heartbeat. It's rather fast, if Eve says so herself. 

"Belle . . ." Eve whispers. 

Slowly, oh, _so_ slowly, Belle swings her legs out from underneath Eve's and moves with a cat-like grace so that she is perched over her, bracketing her hips with her thighs and bracing herself up on her arms. Eve doesn't want to move, doesn't want to break whatever spell's been cast. But she can't entirely help herself, and she runs her hands over Belle's body, forcing Belle further down as her arms twine around her waist and back, gripping Belle's jumper for purchase. This close, she can see how wide Belle's pupils are dilated, can almost feel _Belle's_ hammering heart as well. But for some reason, Belle's still hesitating. 

"God, Belle," Eve murmurs. "You're killing me."

Belle lowers her head at those words; not to Eve's lips like she was hoping, but to her neck. She presses soft lips and sharp teeth to her neck and Eve lets out a soft noise of pleasure at the sensation, letting her legs fall open as her defences fall. Belle's weight above her is both too much and not enough, and Eve is suddenly desperate for more -- of what exactly, she's not sure, but she wants it.

"The feeling's mutual," Belle whispers in her ear. "I don't think I've been able to stop thinking about this since I met you."

And that -- that's almost too much for Eve. She tugs briefly at Belle's jumper. "Off," she says eloquently. "I need to -- I need to touch you. I need to know this is really happening."

Belle pushes back effortlessly onto her knees and tugs the jumper off, revealing soft, pale skin that Eve's hands are itching to touch. Her bra has a lace border on the cups which hugs the curves of her breasts, but is otherwise a plain, serviceable black. Eve watches the skin on her breasts get goosebumps in the chill as she strips off her own jumper, her own underwear a far less sensible affair; the thin cups, she knows, clearly show her nipples through the white lace. When Belle is still stock-still above her, Eve decides to take matters into her own hands; bracing her legs on the couch, she slides one hand under Belle's ass and pushes herself up with the other so that now they're both sitting, Belle still firmly pressed into the vee of Eve's legs. In this position they're pressed chest to chest, long expanses of skin finally touching, and the desire in Eve's body is temporarily sated. She curls her arms up and around Belle's back, tracing her vertebrae as she teases up Belle's spine. 

And finally, Belle looks less unsure of herself, grinning a little as she tips her head forwards to kiss Eve properly. One hand tangles in her hair, while the other wanders around Eve's back until she finds her bra clasp. With a flick of her wrist and a nip of her teeth, Belle unhooks Eve's bra as she sucks her lower lip into her mouth. Eve groans as the weight of her breasts press against Belle's body, and without breaking the kiss she shrugs her straps off her shoulders and flings the underwear to one side. They break apart, Eve chasing Belle's lips for another kiss, and she chuckles. 

"Satisfied?"

"Hell no."

"No, I mean -- satisfied that I _do_ feel for you?"

It's 00:01, and in response Eve kisses Belle again before unhooking her bra.

**Author's Note:**

> from the tumblr prompt: new years eve (ayy) kiss for belle and eve maybe?
> 
> look i doN'T KNOW WHERE THE PORN CAME FROM I'M SORRY


End file.
